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O Christ King, Your name is the first I will call upon after again breathing out this word which I have held in my chest for so long, pouring out from my mind this word as a pure oblation of an immaculate priest, if it befits me to say so.

Light of the Father, Word of the Great Mind transcending all reason, Summit of Light from the maximal Summit of Light, the Only-Begotten, Image of the eternal Father and Seal of the Beginningless One Who illumines together with the Great Spirit, Threshold of the ages, Glorious One, Giver of good things, Who sits on the throne in the Highest, Heavenly and Omnipotent One, Breath animating the [human] mind, Legislator of the world, Giver of life, Creator of all that is and will be – for You made everything –, You set the foundations of the world and of all that is when You so desired, making their movements depend on the nod of Your head.

For You, O King, are the stars covered by the Sun which sprints across the heavenly apse, the ring of fire dominating them just as You dominate the [angelic] minds. For You does the moon, the eye of the night, live and perish in alternating fashion, emerging again with its full radiance. For You does the measured dance of the stellar cycle bring gentle measures to the mixing of seasons; while the fixed stars and the planets with their swift rotations are a word emerging from your divine Wisdom. Your Light is all the heavenly minds that hymn the glory of the heavenly Trinity. And Your glory is man, whom you established as herald and chanter of hymns of Your radiance, O Light!

O Immortal One, Who became mortal for my sake, You Who were Begotten again, O incorporeal Height Who in these last days bore flesh for the sins of mortals: for You do I live, for You do I speak, for You am I a living sacrifice, the only treasure that has remained for me. For You did I bind my tongue and now have unloosed my word. I pray You, grant me both with holiness. I will speak as much as it befits me. Whatever is not befitting will not even occupy my thoughts. I will allow the word to gush forth as a pearl, casting away the mud. I will extract the gold from the sand, the rose from the thorns, the kernel of wheat from the straw. To You, O Christ, does my tongue offer the first fruits of its labors, pouring out before You its first word.

Today, Christ the Bridegroom rises from among the dead with whom He intermingled, He destroyed the needle of death, He shattered the dark gates of somber hades and gave freedom to souls.

Today, emerging from the grave, He showed Himself to the mortals for whom He was born, for whom He died, and for whom He rose from the dead, so that we, being born again and escaping from death, might lift ourselves up from here together with You Who elevates us.

Today, the great and radiant choir of angels rejoices while singing a hymn of victory.

Today, I uttered forth a voice, loosing the lips which were closed by silence, and in me there is an instrument singing hymns.

Within me, I have offered as sacrifice my mind to the Mind, my word to the Word; I will also offer them, if you so desire, to the Great Spirit.

Saint Gregory Nazianzus